


it was a train wreck but we loved every second of it

by st0rrm



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, also theyre all american in this, sorry - Freeform, that title is irrelevant as fuck but i felt like it fit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3574088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st0rrm/pseuds/st0rrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU roughly based on That 70's Show</p>
            </blockquote>





	it was a train wreck but we loved every second of it

**Author's Note:**

> train wreck is a phrase i use to describe a lot of things  
> including this fic  
> also  
> also also  
> theyre all american in this  
> also sorry again because i tried to stick to the shows canon as best as i could~

The 70's are a weird time in your life. You were born in 1959 to two loving parents, and you grew up next door to your best friend, Phil Lester.

Things didn't really start picking up until 1975. In June of 1975, you started dating Phil Lester. Not a whole lot of people knew, other than your group of friends and your parents. Of course, though, there was speculation, and the two of you weren't exactly low-key on the PDA.

Dates were common. Phil would toss pebbles at your window until you opened it, and he would ask you to go downstairs so the two of you could go joyriding in the middle of the night. These dates, the ones where the two of you just _hung out_ in the car, with Foreigner on in the background, and lazy kisses shared between the two of you, were your favorites.

The first time you and Phil have sex, well, it's not as marvelous as you'd like to tell yourself. It's clumsy, and slow, the two of you laugh a lot, and end up not really even having sex, instead opting for a few quick blowjobs after realizing the two of you had no fucking clue what you were doing.

The first fight the two of you have happens after Phil decided to buy you a promise ring in July of 1976. You didn't really know how to handle it, and Phil ended up getting upset with you. It came down to him saying: “If you wont wear the ring...then I...don't think we can be in a relationship.”

And then you said, “Are you serious?”

Phil had nodded solemnly. You had taken off the ring, and placed it in his hands. That night, you cried more than you'd ever cried in your life. Your friend Louise laid in bed next to you the whole night, holding you, and telling you that it was okay.

The two months after that were awkward at best. You and Phil had to relearn how to act around each other, and the two of you had to learn what was and wasn't allowed. Eventually the two of you had a long talk, and figured things out.

You had a few boyfriends over the year, but none of them worked out. One of them was with a tall, cute boy, with sandy hair and green eyes. He was horrible. He got you wasted all the time, and only really wanted you for the sex, which, of course, he never got. The other was a short, skinny kid with curly brown hair and chestnut eyes. He was nice, but you weren't feeling it.

In the summer of 1977, you ran away. Your friend, Chris Kendall, had proposed to his girlfriend of three years, and after it didn't work out, he showed up at your house, and the two of you decided to go from Point Place, Wisconsin, to Los Angeles, California.

You don't really know why you agreed to it, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. You were tired of getting your heart broken, and you were tired of the fucking looks Phil kept giving you; the looks that kept almost convincing you to give in and to kiss him, and to apologize and to just get back together.

You also really don't know why you didn't just do that in the first place.

You and Chris were sitting on a beach, him watching the girl he'd been having a fling with for the past month prance around in the water, and you were just staring at all the other people. “God, I miss Phil,” you finally admitted.

Chris, who'd honestly been staring at the girl's breasts for the better part of fifteen minutes, patted your knee. “Dan, you're a great friend and all, but, like, isn't there _anyone_ else you could discuss this with?”

“I don't really know anyone else, though. I just know you and,” You made a vague motion towards the girl whose name constantly slipped your mind, “her.” You sighed. “God, everything just reminds me of Phil. Hell, that guy over there even looks like Phil.” You groaned and rubbed your eyes.

It took you a minute, but you looked at the guy who looked like Phil. “Oh my god.” At this, you got up and started running as fast as your skinny legs would carry you. “ _Phil!_ ”

You plowed into him, giving him a bone crushing hug. He returned the hug with equal vigor. “God, I missed you so fucking much.” This was the first time you heard Phil's voice in about two months. Honestly you almost started crying. (Who are we kidding—you _were_ crying.)

“What the hell are you even doing here?” You asked. “Why are you here?”

“Because I...I'm a fucking idiot and I still love you? God, I'm such a horrible person and really I came here because I wanted to ask you to be my boyfriend again but I don't really expec-” That was all he was able to get out before you pressed your lips against his.

Three days after your sappy reunion with Phil, the three of you went home.

Your parents weren't happy. Oh, _hell_ no they weren't. They were even considering sending you to a catholic school, until Phil's parents pointed out the view the Catholic church had on homosexuals. Your parents loved you, and they wanted you to grow up good, but, they weren't willing to put you in danger over your little stunt.

Instead, they opted to send you to a school that was on the opposite side of town. Your final year of high school was a good one. You ended up going back to your old high school about half way through the first semester, and you couldn't have been happier.

You and Phil were back together, and life was great for the time being.

On prom night of your senior year, Phil asked you if you would marry him. (If it was legalized in the future, that is.) You had grinned, and said yes before kissing him 10,000 times. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Phil. You didn't care about the difficulties or any consequences that would come with it; you wanted to be with Phil.

Things were going good, and the two of you even planned to move in together, until Phil told you that he was going to study abroad, at the University of Manchester. The two of you had tried a long distance relationship for a few months, but eventually he told you that he thought the two of you should take a break.

 _That_ night was the night you cried the most. Not the first break up, oh no, it was this one. Louise had spent the night with you again, cuddling you, and telling you it was going to be okay, and telling you that it was bound to happen at some point.

The year that Phil was gone wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. You met a nice guy, PJ, and the two of you became friends. He reminded you of Phil, and you wondered if you liked him only because of that. You denied it, though.

Eventually, after a few months, you and PJ became more than friends. Your relationship with him was nothing like your relationship with Phil. It was slow and calm. While you and Phil were quick, rough kisses, eager to please and learn, you and PJ were slow, sensual kisses, experienced and seasoned.

It was also nothing like your relationship with Phil, considering you didn't love PJ like you loved Phil. You liked PJ romantically, sure, but you never had any of the groundbreaking moments with him that you had with Phil. You never thought, “Oh, he's definitely the one,” and you really couldn't see a future with him.

The tipping point for the two of you was in November of 1979. He had said something nerdy that reminded you of Phil, and that's when you broke. “I can't do this.” PJ was understanding. You were pretty sure that even he saw that it wasn't going to work out. You knew PJ loved you, but you didn't love him as much as he loved you.

You and PJ tried being friends, but he drifted off, and went back to his usual crowd of people that he was always with before you came around.

December 31st, 1979, the end of a decade.

Phil was supposed to come home earlier that evening, but he had missed his flight out. You were disappointed. Your friends had all given you a pitying look. Louise had hugged you, and had apologized on Phil's behalf, and Chris had given you a sympathetic pat on the back.

You had taken a breather a few hours after that. You sat on the hood of your dad's car, staring up at the sky, with a coat wrapped tightly around you. You heard footsteps, but you dismissed them, assuming they belonged to Louise or one of your parents. “Dan,” A deep voice that you hadn't heard in far too long said.

“I fucking hate you,” Phil could tell this was a lie. He could see it in the tears that were coming out of your eyes, and in the grin that was about to break your face. The two of you embraced, and didn't say anything for the longest time.

“Would this be a bad time to ask you out again?” He asked while he still had his arms around you.

“God, no,” You hugged him even tighter.

Your relationship with Phil had been a fucking train wreck, but, he was back for the year, the two of you had experiences to share, and stories to tell.


End file.
